Please Mr. Postman
by Angel Grace
Summary: Trory fic. A series of letters exchanged by Tristan and Rory after he leaves for military school.
1. Every Time I Go for the Mailbox, I Gotta...

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

**Please Mr. Postman**

**By Grace**

November 29, 2001

Dear Mary,

                Sorry, I couldn't help myself!  Anyway, here I am in North Carolina.  The weather is definitely better than Connecticut, but that's about the only good thing.  Military school isn't all that different from Chilton, aside from the lack of girls and the fact that they made me cut my hair.  Living in a dorm room—which I have to _share—isn't exactly my thing either._

                You're probably sitting there, rolling your eyes, and pointing out the fact that I brought this all on myself.  You would be right in that respect, but that doesn't mean I have to like it.  You may also be wondering why I'm writing to you, or perhaps you're just stunned that I know how to spell more than just my own name.

                The truth is it's pretty lonely down here.  Somehow, none of the other Chiltonites seem worth writing to—I'm not sure all of them can read. J Anyway, I hope you don't mind.  I thought that when I left things were pretty much okay between us, so I took the chance that you might write back.  In any respect, I figured you'd have more interesting things to talk about than who Louise is going with to the next dance.

                I know that this is short, but I didn't want to kill too many trees on the off chance you burned this letter immediately upon seeing my name in the return address.

                Take care of yourself, Rory.  I'd love to hear from you.

                                                                                                                                                Tristan

*              *              *

_December 4, 2001___

_Dear Tristan,_

_                You're right, I was surprised to hear from you, and I have to admit, there was some initial eye-rolling involved.  But hey, I didn't burn the letter!_

_                I'm actually writing this in the Chilton cafeteria.  I doubt Headmaster __Charleston__ would think writing a letter is any more sociable than reading a book, but that's his problem, not mine._

_                Not too much has changed since you left, although no one calls me Mary and __Paris__ has thawed her Ice Queen act a little bit.  She even gave me a good assignment for the paper this week.  Speaking of __Paris__, she went on a date this weekend.  I'm not sure who with—I think his name is Nathan or something.  I guess all she needed to get over you was to have you shipped several hundred miles away!  So much for the theory "absence makes the heart grow fonder."_

_                Incidentally, I have no idea who Louise is going to the dance with, since she'll probably date ten guys between now and then._

_                I don't know any other Chilton gossip, and somehow writing about the big history assignment doesn't seem very interesting.  I guess the only thing left to do is tell you about the exciting world of Stars Hollow.  (By the way, you might want to try reading this if you're suffering from insomnia.)_

_                Now that it's December, the town is getting geared up for Christmas.  As usual, __Taylor__ (he owns the grocery store) is spearheading the charge.  He wants all of the downtown business owners to put red and green twinkle lights around their windows and awnings.  Luke (the diner owner) refused, just like he does every year.  Apparently, __Taylor__ decided to take matters into his own hands, and Saturday night, after the diner closed, he put up the lights around Luke's himself.  Suffice it to say that Luke was more than a little angry.  He wanted to tear them down right away, but my mom—who was there getting coffee—convinced him that since they were already there and he hadn't had to do the work, it wouldn't hurt to leave them up.  The whole town breathed a collective sigh of relief, but it didn't end there.  Much to his astonishment, when __Taylor__ got to the grocery store Monday morning, he discovered that all the red and green bulbs had been replaced with orange and black ones.  Most people thought it was pretty funny, especially Luke.  No one's owned up to it yet, but we're all convinced that Luke's nephew, Jess, played the prank.  Dean, unfortunately, was less than thrilled, since __Taylor__ made him change out all the bulbs.  I'm getting the distinct impression that Dean doesn't like Jess very much._

_                Other than that, it was a pretty quiet weekend.  "Quiet" is, naturally, a relative term, since my mom blasting Aerosmith at __7 a.m.__ does not technically fall within the bounds of the definition, but it's also not an unusual occurrence for us.  The fact that it was Aerosmith was__ a little weird…_

_                Well, there's the bell, so I need to get to class.  Tell me more about __North Carolina__!_

_                                                                                                                                                Rory_

*              *              *

December 11, 2001

Dear Rory,

                Sorry it's taken me a little while to write back, but things have been pretty crazy.  Finals are coming up, so I'm sure you understand.

                Your letter was great.  The part about the Christmas lights had me cracking up.  I'm pretty sure my roommate now thinks I'm insane.  Oh well, he's probably right!  I can't imagine living in a place like Stars Hollow.  It sounds like one big family.  I'm not even sure I know the names of our next door neighbors in Hartford.  How did you and your mom end up there, anyway?

                North Carolina is beautiful, although they don't let us off campus much, so I haven't really gone exploring.  The school I'm at is pretty close to the coast, and I'm hoping to make it down there soon.

                There's really not too much to tell.  My life consists almost entirely of eating, sleeping, studying, and going to class.  Honestly, though, it's a nice change of pace from my "debonair playboy" lifestyle back in Hartford.  Nobody here seems to care where I'm from, who my parents are, or how many square feet our estate has.  I've only ever known one other person who was like that.  Can you guess who it is?

                So Paris is dating, huh?  Tell her I'm happy for her.  No, strike that, because then she'd want to know how you know, and I don't want my pen pal murdered.

                Now, I don't usually go in much for sappy and sentimental (I _am a guy), but it really means a lot to me that you wrote back.  After the way I treated you so much of the time, I wouldn't have blamed you for blowing me off.  I am sorry for all of that—if I could go back and change things, I would._

                We now return to our regularly scheduled cocky Tristan…

                So what are you and your mom doing for the holidays?  I can hardly believe that Christmas is only two weeks away.  Do you get together with your grandparents, or just stay in Stars Hollow?

                I should probably go.  We have PT at 5 a.m., and it's getting late.  Write soon, and if I don't "talk" to you before then, have a merry Christmas.

                                                                                                                                                Tristan

*              *              *

_December 16, 2001___

_Dear Tristan,_

_                Arrrrggghh!  Well, now that that's__ out of my system…  I'm not sure what it is about the holidays, but all the people in my life have suddenly gone insane!  Or at least, more insane.  Please tell me you haven't been afflicted by the same malady.  Personally, I blame it on the eggnog.  There must__ be something in it besides…eggs and nog. (Seriously, what is that stuff made of?)_

_                First things first—Dean and I broke up.  Again.  For good.  And I swear to God, if you're down in __North Carolina__ smirking and doing a happy dance, I will know__ and I will come down there and, uh, do something really bad!  But back to reality.  I was the dumper this time, not the dumpee.  Is that an improvement?  I just couldn't take any more of the overprotective jealousy routine.  You saw how he was around you, and he's just as bad when it comes to Luke's nephew Jess.  I'm pretty much the only friend Jess has in this town, and I know Dean resents that.  Then, at the annual Stars Hollow Christmas Festival of Lights (which is our little way of celebrating both the Christian and Jewish traditions), Jess and I got caught under some mistletoe.  The whole town was goading us to kiss, so we did.  It was no big deal, just a tiny peck on the lips, but I thought Dean was going to go all homicidal on Jess.  Or at the very least, behead some hapless snowman or reindeer.  I managed to calm him down before any bodily harm was inflicted.  The next day, though, he tried to convince me that I shouldn't be friends with Jess.  That's__ when I dumped him.  What a control freak.  I think I'm swearing off men._

_                But enough about my love life, or lack thereof.  I'm sure it's boring you to tears.  You asked some questions in your last letter, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to answer to them._

_                My mom and I came to Stars Hollow when I was just a baby.  Basically, I think she wanted to be somewhere that was the least like her parents' house in __Hartford__, and Stars Hollow filled the bill.  Mia, the woman who owns the __Independence__Inn__, gave my mom a job as a maid, and even let us live on the property in this little cottage/shed for a while.  It wasn't much, but it was enough.  My mom has worked her way up over the years, and now she runs the inn.  Of course, she and her best friend Sookie (the chef at the inn—she's the most amazing cook) want to open their own inn, but I'm not exactly sure when that's going to happen._

_                You're right in that Stars Hollow is really like one big extended family.  At least half the people here helped raise me.  I guess you could say they sort of adopted us.  Sometimes that can be a pain, because everybody knows everybody else's business (just like a real family), but most of the time I love it.  I can't imagine living anywhere else, at least not right now._

_                As for Christmas, it's definitely coming up fast.  Are you coming home for the holidays?  My mom and I will spend Christmas Eve with my grandma and grandpa in __Hartford__, but Christmas day we'll stay in Stars Hollow.  Every year, my mom drags Luke and I out to the woods and makes him help us cut down the perfect Christmas tree.  We just got ours yesterday, and it's beautiful.  The whole house smells like a pine forest.  We were up until three in the morning decorating the tree, because we put about eight billion lights on, and of course my mom has to tell the story of every single ornament we own.  She insists on keeping the really ugly ones that I made in first grade and are covered with glitter—they go on the tree every year, although I try to hide them towards the back when she's not paying attention.  We tried to string popcorn and cranberries this year, but my mom kept eating the popcorn, so the garland ended up being mostly cranberries. (She tried to convince me that using Craisins would be easier, but I put my foot down.)  It looks pretty, though.  Christmas day we'll open up all our presents at __five a.m.__, and then go back to bed.  In the afternoon, Sookie, __Jackson__, Luke, Jess, Lane, Babette, Maury, Miss Patty, __Taylor__, Kirk, and Michel will all come over for dinner.  I think mom invited grandma and grandpa this year, too.  Mom spikes the eggnog when no one is looking, and Sookie usually ends up standing on the couch singing Christmas carols at the top of her lungs.  The town Troubadour might come by in the evening to serenade us, too.  We all exchange little presents (okay, they're supposed to be little, but they never are).  Around __nine o'clock__, the eggnog will finally get to Miss Patty, who will start flirting even more aggressively with Luke…although this year, she might have a new target in Jess.  Anyway, the party will probably start to break up then, and when everyone else is gone, mom, Sookie, Lane, and I will crash out in the living room and watch It's a Wonderful Life__ until we fall asleep.  It's predictable and a little crazy, but it's a lot of fun._

_You're probably sick of my babbling, and finals start tomorrow, so I have to finish studying.  Have a Merry Christmas._

_                                                                                                                                Rory_

*              *              *

To be continued…


	2. I'll Be Home for Christmas

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

A/N: I apologize for the long delay in getting this part out.  I was doing fine while the entire thing was in letter format, but once I opted to include some actual character interaction and dialogue, I hit a brick wall.  I hope everyone likes it!

**Please Mr. Postman**

**Part 2: I'll Be Home for Christmas**

**By Grace**

December 19, 2001

Dear Rory,

                I got your letter today.  I wish I could say that I'm sorry you and Dean broke up, but I know you wouldn't want me to lie!  I _am sorry that he hurt you, though, and I hope you're handling everything okay.  It sounds like you are._

                I still haven't decided what I am doing for Christmas.  My parents are going to Barbados, so no one will be home, and it doesn't really seem worth it to come all that way to an empty house.  On the other hand, it would be nice to eat something other than dorm food!  So we'll see.

                Your Christmas sounds like it's going to be absolutely amazing.  I envy you, Rory.  I can't remember the last time we had a family Christmas.  My parents despise winter, so they always go someplace tropical.  Most of the time I go skiing—nothing says holiday cheer quite like a roaring fire in a lodge snuggled up next to a snow bunny.  But somehow, it just doesn't seem appealing this year.

                You actually have a town Troubadour?  The more you tell me about Stars Hollow, the more unusual it seems.  I can understand why you'd never want to leave.  I'm a little confused about some of the people you mentioned in your letter, though.  Who are Jackson, Babette, Maury, Kirk, and Michél?  Are they family?  Friends?

                Anyway, finals are going pretty smoothly so far.  Only two days left—what a relief!  I'm looking forward to reading something that isn't a textbook.  Any recommendations?

                My roommate is turning out to be not such a bad guy after all.  It probably helps that I've lost some of my attitude since I got here.  Anyway, his name is Andrew, and I guess the last four generations of guys in his family have gone to school here.  He's sort of on the rigid side, but I'm hoping to loosen him up a little bit.  I managed to convince him to pull a minor prank with me and some of the other guys on the floor.  Nothing too serious, so we shouldn't get expelled if we get caught.  Every morning, they play the school song over the PA, and we all have to stand there and sing.  We're going to sneak into the office, and replace the tape with one of Alvin and the Chipmunks singing Christmas carols.  It's going to be hysterical!  Plus, I figure it will get everyone relaxed before their last final.  Anyway, I'll write and tell you all about it after it happens.

                Well, I need to get back to studying.  Merry Christmas, Mary.

                                                                                                                                                Tristan

*              *              *

December 23, 2001

There was a knock on Tristan's dorm room door, and he looked up from the magazine he was reading, startled.  Nearly everyone had left school after finals ended the previous day, and he couldn't imagine who would be coming to visit him.

                Barefoot, he padded over to the door and glanced through the peephole.  Seeing the hall director, he quickly opened the door.

                "You Tristan DuGrey?" he asked brusquely.

                "Yeah."

                "I have a registered letter for you," he stated, holding it out.

                "Thanks," replied Tristan, taking the letter, a puzzled look on his face.

                "Merry Christmas."

                "You too," he responded absently, shutting the door.

                Sitting down on his bed, he tore open the envelope.  The enclosed note was brief, but he didn't mind.

_December 22, 2001_

_                Dear Tristan,_

_I got your letter today.  No one should be alone during the holidays.  If you decide to come to __Connecticut__ during your break, you're more than welcome to spend Christmas with us._

_                                                                                                Love, Mary_

                He stared wide-eyed at the sheet of paper, certain he must have misunderstood somehow.  Rory Gilmore was offering to have him be a part of her Christmas?  He glanced again at her signature.  _Love, Mary.  The two simple words seemed to burn a path straight to his heart.  If only she knew…  He was certain she had written the words without thinking—just an affectionate signature on a letter to a friend, nothing more._

                He shook his head abruptly.  Now was not the time to be overanalyzing.  He had too much to do, like pack, and call his father's pilot.

                Tristan DuGrey was going home—home to Rory.

*              *              *

December 25, 2001

                The Stars Hollow group had all arrived, the eggnog was being served, and almost everyone was in a merry mood.  Miss Patty had Jess and Michél cornered, and was flirting madly; Lorelai was in the kitchen trying to ensure that Sookie didn't hurt herself, and Luke was in there to make sure neither of them burned the house down; Babette and Maury were sitting cozily by the fire; Richard and Emily were perched primly on the couch, trying not to look uncomfortable; Taylor was giving Kirk and Jackson a lecture on civic responsibility; and Lane was on the phone with Henry, taking advantage of the opportunity to talk to him when her mother couldn't overhear.

                Rory sat alone near the window, her gaze alternating between the driveway and the brightly wrapped package with Tristan's name on it.  She had thought—hoped, even—that he would come.  The idea of him spending the holiday all alone tore at her heart.  Obviously, what she had initially assumed to be a charmed life wasn't so magical after all.  He was the epitome of a "poor little rich boy."

                Rory was torn from a particularly long spell of staring at his Christmas present by the ringing of the doorbell.  She sprang to her feet and all but ran to the hallway, wrenching open the front door.

                There he was.  His hair was a little shorter, his posture a little straighter, but his eyes were just as blue, his smile just as charming.

                "Tristan!" she exclaimed, launching herself at him and giving him a fierce hug.  "I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

                He pulled back slightly from her embrace to meet her eyes.  "Did you really think I would miss the opportunity to spend Christmas with my Mary?"

                The way he said the last two words sent a spark of electricity through her, but she quickly dismissed it.  Grabbing him by the hand, she hauled him into the house.  "Come on, I want you to meet everyone."

                She went through the introductions quickly, and then she got him settled with a glass of eggnog and a plate of hors d'oeuvres.  Miss Patty lit up like a…well, like a Christmas tree when her eyes landed on Tristan, and Jess and Michél breathed a collective sigh of relief when she made a beeline for the blonde boy.

                Lane hung up with Henry and walked over to her best friend.  Rory was surveying the scene in the Gilmore living room, a contented smile upon her face.

                "You look happy," commented Lane.

                "It's Christmas day.  Why wouldn't I look happy?"

                "No, I mean you look happier since Tristan got here."

                Rory stared at her best friend, eyebrows raised.  "Why would that make me happier?"

                Lane shrugged.  "You tell me."

                "I suppose I am happy that he isn't spending Christmas all by himself.  That would just be too sad."

                "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

                "Lane, what are you trying to say?"

                "It's just that you and Dean aren't together anymore, and you know Tristan's always had a thing for you…"

                "So, what, you think we're just going to up and start dating each other?"

                "Well, you have been writing to each other…"

                "Yes, we have, and the reason we've been writing letters instead of torturing each other at Chilton is because he now goes to school in North Carolina.  Even if I wanted to date him, the whole long-distance thing wouldn't work."

                "But you miss him, don't you?" Lane asked quietly.

                "Yeah," Rory said softly, her voice barely more than a sigh.  "I didn't expect to, but I do, and I'm glad that he's here now."

                Wisely, Lane let the subject drop, knowing Rory wasn't yet ready to admit what she herself had suspected for a long time.  Instead, she simply said, "Don't you think it's about time you rescued him from Miss Patty?"

                "Good point.  I suppose I should have mercy on him."

                Lane suppressed her laughter as Rory hurried to Tristan's side, and then went off to find Lorelai.

                Rory approached Tristan and Miss Patty carefully, choosing her words in her mind.  "Miss Patty?  I think I overheard Kirk say that he wants you to teach him a new dance step."

                The older woman tore her eyes from Tristan's handsome face.  "Right now?"

                "I guess so.  You never can tell with Kirk."

                Looking mournful, Miss Patty told Tristan, "Duty calls," and headed off in search of an unsuspecting Kirk.

                A look of profound relief crossed Tristan's face as soon as she was out of sight, and Rory grinned as she plopped down beside him.  "You're welcome," she said.

                He turned to face her.  "Thank you.  Another ten minutes, and I might have ended up engaged."

                "You wouldn't have been the first," chuckled Rory.  "So when did you get into town?"

                "Late Sunday night."  He watched Rory's face take on an expression of hurt, and he began to panic.  "What's wrong?"

                "You were in town a day and a half and you didn't call?  I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

                His heart soared.  She really wanted him to be here—she hadn't invited him solely out of pity.  "It was much too late to call on Sunday, and I knew you'd be at your grandparents' yesterday."

                "You could have come with us," she insisted earnestly.

                "I didn't want to impose, Rory."

                "You wouldn't have.  I invited you to spend Christmas with us—that meant _all of Christmas.  Besides, do you know how ecstatic my grandparents would have been if I had brought a DuGrey?  They probably would have started planning my dowry!"_

                He graced her with that familiar smirk.  "Planning our wedding already, Mary?"

                Instead of scowling as she once would have, she grinned and shot back," Well, you're probably planning the honeymoon!"

                "You wound me, Mary," he emoted, clutching a hand to his chest.  "As if I would ever think such lascivious thoughts."

                She arched her brow.  "Lascivious?  My, my, it seems you have learned something at military school."

                At the mention of his hated home-away-from-home, his face fell.  "The only thing I've learned is that breaking into that safe was the biggest mistake of my life."

                Her expression softened, and she reached out to place a hand over his.  "I wish there was something I could do."

                "Don't you see, Rory?  You already have—more than you'll ever know."

                She smiled, the smile that haunted his dreams and made his heart catch in his throat, and said simply, "I'm glad you're here."

                "So am I."

                They sat there is silence, just staring at one another, until Lorelai announced that dinner was ready.

                The meal was long and loud and delicious.  Tristan sat quietly beside Rory, listening to the lively conversation of this extended family that embraced almost an entire town.  He had never experienced anything like it, certainly not among his own family, and they were related by blood.  The only bonds binding these people together were love and respect.

                When dinner was finally over, everyone trooped into the living room and settled around the Christmas tree for the gift opening.  Tristan hung back, knowing he would be little more than a spectator for this portion of the evening's festivities.  But no sooner had Rory sat down than she glanced back in his direction, and beckoned him to her.  Hesitantly, he approached the sofa, and sat down beside her when she patted the cushion.

                Relaxing into the couch, he marveled once more at where he was and whom he was with.  This was the best Christmas present he could have imagined.

                Loelai presided over the distribution of the gifts, wearing a Santa hat and a pair of pointed elf shoes with bells on the toes.  Before she could pick up the first present, Sookie yelled "Speech, speech!"

                A wicked gleam in her eye, Lorelai straightened her stance into a proper oratory mode.  "Friends, family, Stars Hollowites.  Ask not what your presents can do for you, but what you can do for your presents.  Personally, I advocate a fun-filled Twister tournament, but the Luke that Stole Christmas already vetoed that."  Everyone laughed, and she smirked before continuing.  "As you know, this party has become a Christmas tradition in our quiet little hamlet, and I'd like to thank you all for coming and sharing the holiday with us.  This year, we get to welcome a few new faces, like Jess and Tristan, who gets the Troll-doll trophy for traveling the farthest distance.  Last year it went to my beloved parents, who drove in from exotic Hartford!  Let's hear it for Richard and Emily Gilmore!"

                There was applause and more laughter, and Tristan reflected that he had never met anyone remotely like Lorelai…except perhaps Rory.

                "So, without further ado, the first present of the night goes to…Tristan!"

                He sat up straight in surprise.  Was this some kind of cruel joke?  They were going to give him his one and only present first, so that he had to sit there the rest of the night and do nothing?  Wordlessly, he accepted the package, and was stunned to see that the tag read "To Tristan, From Sookie."  Sookie had gotten him a Christmas present?  He hadn't brought anything for her, and suddenly he felt uncomfortable and awkward.

                As if reading his mind, the rosy-cheeked chef spoke up.  "Sweetie, I don't expect anything from you.  Go ahead, open it."

                He obliged, and quickly unwrapped the festive box to find an assortment of beautifully decorated Christmas cookies.  "Thank you so much.  They look almost too good to eat!"

                Sookie giggled and blushed.  "You're so nice to say so!  But go ahead, try one!"

                The cookies tasted even better than they looked, and he impulsively left his seat and went to give Sookie a hug.  After that, it seemed that the ice was broken was more.  Everyone tore eagerly into their presents, and Tristan discovered that Luke, Lorelai, Lane, Emily and Richard, Miss Patty, and Maury and Babette had all thought to include him.  None of their gifts were elaborate, but all were heartfelt, and for the first time in his life, he felt like part of a real family.  He had only thought to bring gifts for Lorelai—a pound of gourmet coffee—and Rory, but no one seemed to feel slighted.

                It was almost the end of the night when Lorelai handed a heavy, elaborately-wrapped present to Tristan.  Seeing that it was from Rory, he grinned, and his smile widened when he saw that she had given him books.  _The Hobbit and __The Lord of the Rings, to be exact._

                "Thank you, Rory.  I've always wanted to read these."

                She smiled shyly, and commented, "You asked for recommendations, so…"

                "They're perfect.  I love them."

                Lorelai broke in to hand Rory a small, carefully wrapped box.  "This is the last one, Ror.  And you know what they say…the best things come in small packages."

                Rory felt her heartbeat accelerate when she realized the gift was from Tristan.  She knew she shouldn't be nervous…it was just a Christmas present.  Knowing Tristan, it was something silly, like a gold-plated coffee bean.  When she removed the wrapping paper and saw that it was a small velvet jewelry box, her breath caught.  Tristan had bought her jewelry?  She was almost afraid to lift the hinged cover, but tentatively she did.  Nestled inside was a beautiful, delicate silver bracelet, and from it dangled three exquisite charms…a book, a coffee cup, and a Christmas tree with "Christmas 2001" engraved on it.  "Oh, Tristan, it's beautiful," she breathed.

                His face flushed, and she realized she hadn't ever really seen him embarrassed before.  "You can add more charms to the bracelet…I just didn't really know what else you'd like."

                "I love it just the way it is."  On impulse, she leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  "Merry Christmas, Tristan."

                "Merry Christmas…Mary."

TBC


	3. There's Only One Cure for the Back-to-Sc...

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

**Please Mr. Postman**

**Part 3: There's Only One Cure for the Back-to-School Blues**

**By Grace**

January 2, 2002

Dear Tristan,

                Happy day after New Year!  Okay, so it seems a little silly to write that since I did actually see you on New Year's, but oh well.  I'm back at Chilton, so you should probably expect my mind to work in strange ways.

                I hope you made it back to North Carolina safely.  I'm so glad that you were able to come home for a visit—it was great to see you.  Thank you so much for the bracelet—I love it and I wear it every day.  I just hope that all the fine citizens of Stars Hollow didn't terrify you too much.  Of course, you did come back for New Year's, so you couldn't have been too scared.  Before I forget, my mom (not to mention Miss Patty) now expects you to be at all Stars Hollow holiday functions from now until…well, eternity.  Hospitalization or death will be the only acceptable excuses for your absence. J

                I ran into Dean while I was waiting at the bus stop this morning.  Thanks to the Stars Hollow gossip circle, he had heard all about your visit.  Needless to say, he was somewhat on the hostile side.  I guess he hasn't quite grasped the full concept of being broken up yet.  I tried to explain that I have every right to spend time with whomever I choose, but he was having none of that.

                What I don't understand is why he thinks it's okay for him to date other people (which, according to Lane, he is), but I can't even spend time with a friend!  Maybe it's just because it's you.  He was always irrational about you.

                Moving on to slightly less cheerful subjects, it was back to the usual grind at Chilton today.  Paris launched into a diatribe about the crass commercialization of the holiday season and the fact that the American general populace almost completely ignores the fact that not all of us "worship Santa."  At that point, I asked if she had been watching the Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon on FX during break, and she shut up.  Madeline and Louise were on the verge of laughing, but she silenced them with her patented death glare.  I swear, sometimes I feel like Winona Ryder in Heathers.

                Anyway, I think we'll manage to get the double issue of The Franklin out on time, but it won't be easy.  Have I mentioned that Paris is insane?  She's not a bad person, she's just really driven.  We could probably be friends if someone got her a Valium prescription.  Why am I explaining this to you?  I'm sure you know better than most.

                Okay, this letter has officially become boring.  Write soon!

                                                                                                                                                Rory

*              *              *

January 6, 2002

Dear Rory,

                Your letters could never be boring to me, Rory.  As you've probably guessed, I made it back to military school safe and sound.  Can't you just hear the elation in my voice?

                I know Paris has been known to make your life a living hell, but cut her some slack.  At the very least, don't slip her a Drano and orange juice cocktail, or whatever it was in Heathers!  Just remember that you have an amazing family, and she doesn't.

                I'm sorry about the run-in with Dean.  I had wondered if my coming to visit you would cause trouble.  I guess it did.  I can't really blame the guy, after the flour incident and all.  I find it a little suspicious that he's already dating—I know I wouldn't be able to get over you that quickly.

                Sadly, military school hasn't changed at all since I left.  We've been back less than a week, and the assignments are already piling up—just like Chilton.

                I finally talked to my parents.  They left a message on my machine here Christmas Day—I guess it never occurred to them to try to reach me at home or on my cell.  Anyway, they called again yesterday.  They received my report card from last semester, and they're pretty happy with it.  I'm hoping that if I do well again this semester, I'll be able to convince them to let me come home for senior year.

                Tell your mom (but not Miss Patty) that I would be honored to attend any and all Stars Hollow celebrations.  I guess I'm kind of in awe of how open and accepting people are there (except Taylor, of course).  Sure, Luke and Jess probably would have pounded the crap out of me if I dared put one toe over the line, but there's something almost familial and comforting about that.

                By the way, you do know that Jess has a crush on you, right?  He hides it pretty well, but every once in a while I'd catch him giving me the death glare from across the room.  Much as I hate to admit that any guy is worthy of you, he'd be a definite improvement over Bag-Boy.

                Speaking of relationships, can I get in on the betting pool for when your mom and Luke will get together?

                Well, since I have to be up in five hours, I should probably go to bed.  Write soon.

                                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

P.S. Would you mind sending me a copy of the Franklin double issue? T

*              *              *

January 9, 2002

Dear Tris,

                As requested, here's a copy of the paper.  I'm sure you'll find Louise's article on the ten most alluring ways to eat cafeteria food particularly enlightening.  I've also enclosed a copy of the calendar with the available dates left in the Junkie & Angel betting pool.  Miss Patty needs your selections ASAP.

                I can't believe you think Jess has a crush on me!  Don't you think if a guy was interested in me, I'd know?  Besides, even if Jess liked me (which I'm sure he doesn't!), it would never work out.  He's a great guy and all, but he's not who I'm looking for, and anyway, he's like a brother to me.

                Don't worry about the Dean situation.  For once, I can honestly say it's not your fault! (Such a rarity. J)  After all, I invited you here, remember?

                Against my better judgment, I decided to take your advice (gasp!) and try to smooth things over with Paris.  I don't think she'll be standing up in my wedding, but at least she's started calling me Rory again, instead of Gilmore.  You know, for a school that's supposed to have such intelligent students, a lot of them sure seem to have trouble with my name… ;)          

                I'm glad that you were finally able to talk to your parents, but I'm appalled that they didn't make more of an effort to get in touch with you over the holidays.  Christmas should be about family.  My mom says you can be part of ours—especially if you'll take her place at Friday night dinners with my grandparents!  I hope that you are able to work things out so you can be back at Chilton for senior year.  It would be good to have you home—mostly because it would save on postage!  Okay, maybe not.  I do miss you—have I mentioned that before?

                In an effort to be more "well-rounded" and get Headmaster Charleston off my case, I've decided to join the debate team.  I figure all of the verbal sparring with you—not to mention my mother—has honed my skills.  Our first meet is on Saturday.  I still think it's strange to have contests for arguing, but whatever.

                The West Wing is about to start, and since my mom never really got past her Rob Lowe fixation (it dates back to St. Elmo's Fire), that's Must-See TV for us.  Hope I hear from you soon!

                                                                                                                                                Love, Rory

*              *              *

January 13, 2002

Dear Rory,

                First things first—I've enclosed my Junkie & Angel picks.  Cute name, by the way.  How'd someone come up with that?  I also really enjoyed the newspaper—I almost felt like I was back at Chilton.  It's good to hear that you and Paris are making positive strides.  As for her standing up at your wedding, don't rule anything out just yet.  Things have a strange way of working out.  Just look at you and me.

                I still say that Jess likes you.  For one, a guy knows these things.  For another, I'm quite sure that this isn't the first time you've been oblivious to a guy's feelings for you.

                Moving on…I've been busting my butt this semester (all week and a half of it).  The only way my parents will even consider letting me come home is if I can prove to them that I'm a model student.  I guess even minor pranks like Alvin and the Chipmunks (which was a rousing success—I forgot to tell you) are going to have to stop.  It's a good thing I have about 8,000 pages of J.R.R. Tolkien to read, courtesy of you!  I'm about halfway through The Hobbit, and so far I really like it.  It's definitely not what I expected.  Now I'm debating whether I should go see the Lord of the Rings movie before I read the books.  I know I won't get as much out of the movie as if I had read the books, but on the other hand it seems like the type of film that should be experienced on the big screen.  Have you seen it?

                Even though Christmas vacation just ended, I'm already looking forward to Spring Break.  Anything to get away from this place, I guess!  The people aren't so bad; it's just not where I want to be.  I don't suppose I could convince you to join me for a vacation on South Padre Island?  Clothing optional, of course!  Hmm, somehow I know you'd never go for that.  Miss Patty, on the other hand…

                ACK! Bad mental image!  Must go throw up now.  Write soon!

                                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

*              *              *

TBC


	4. 1 Hot Guy, 2 Hot Guy, 3 Hot Guy, More!

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: Up to and including the season 2 episode "Run Away Little Boy."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

A/N: I know, I know, this part took forever to get posted.  I've actually had it written for a while, but I wasn't all that crazy about it.  So, I hope you like it.

**Please Mr. Postman**

**Part 4: 1 Hot Guy, 2 Hot Guy, 3 Hot Guy, More!**

**By Grace**

January 18, 2002

Dear Tristan,

                I apologize for taking a little longer than normal to respond to your letter.  Just when I think my life is calming down, someone pushes the insanity button yet again.

                Where to start?  Oddly enough, Chilton has been the least stressful part of my life recently.  In an unusual reversal of my life's trends, getting out of Stars Hollow has been a relief the past several days.  For starters, Lane slipped on a patch of ice last week, and ended up with a broken ankle.  Mrs. Kim is now refusing to let her out of the house for anything except school.  I've gone to see her a few times, but it's a bit too reminiscent of a prison for my taste.  My mom did let me smuggle her cell phone into the house for a week, so Lane could at least call out without her mother knowing.

                The Lane saga, however, is minor in comparison to the Jess saga.  First off, let me say that I really resent the fact that you were right.  Secondly, I'd like to refute your statement that I'm oblivious.  Just because I didn't realize that Jess…  But I'm getting ahead of myself.  It was Wednesday night, and I had gone to Luke's to study.  My mom was in the midst of one of her rare cleaning frenzies.  In other words, the house was chaos.  I had a trig test yesterday, so I knew I was going to be up for a while.  Luke closed up around ten, but he let me stay.  Eventually, he went upstairs to his apartment, and I was all by myself.

                Right in the middle of reviewing hyperbolic tangents, I could feel somebody staring at me.  When I turned around, there was Jess, sitting on the steps, with a goofy expression on his face.  I knew something was up, because Jess doesn't do goofy expressions.

                To make a long story short, after staring at me for another five minutes, he asked me out.  I didn't know what to do—Jess is a really good friend.  I just don't feel that way about him.  Still, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so…I said yes.  We're supposed to go out tomorrow night.  I hope I can make him understand that we can only be friends.

                Anyway, I have to get going so that I can have my panic attack in peace.  Please write with some advice!

                                                                                                                                Love, Rory

*              *              *

**January 19, 2002******

**Dear Tristan,**

**                Let me start off by saying that Rory has no idea I'm writing to you.  I snuck a peek at your address the last time I was at her house—which I'm guessing she told you was prior to my crippling injury.**

**                She would kill me if she knew I was interfering, but I can't sit idly by and watch the two of you make colossal messes of your lives.  Besides, I'm bored.**

**                She's going on a date tonight, with Jess.  Did you know that?  And if you did know, why aren't you ****doing**** something about it?  Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that she didn't reconcile with Dean yet again, and let's face it, Jess is a hottie.  Still, I know how you feel about her—I could see it in your eyes, in your face, in the way you acted around her.  Rory may be blind and clueless, but I'm not.**

**                Rory cares about you a lot.  She hasn't admitted it to me, and she probably hasn't admitted it to herself, but I really think it goes beyond friendship.  For someone she professed to hate for so long, she certainly invested a lot of time and emotion into you.  And you know what they say, "It's a thin line…"**

**                I know that she's here and you're there, and that complicates things.  I also know that Dean was right (did I just ****say**** that?)—you have a thing for her.  The question it, are you willing to fight for her?  You're in military school—you ought to be able to!**

**                Gotta go—if my mom catches me writing a letter to a strange boy in another state, there will be hell to pay.**

**                                                                                                                                Lane**

*              *              *

January 21, 2002

Dear Rory,

                I got your letter today.  I'm sure you could hear my self-satisfied cackle about being right all the way up in Connecticut.

                Details, girl, I want details!  Your mom hasn't called me to inform me of your demise, so I'm assuming that you survived the date.  The question is, did Jess?  Did you let him down easy?  Break his heart?  Or did you chicken out at the last minute and decide that going on a few dates with him was a more appealing option than telling him the truth?

                Okay, so I know you wouldn't do that last one.  Seriously, though, how did it go?

                Random side note: why is Joan Rivers still allowed to show her face on television?  I was bored yesterday, so I turned on the Golden Globes pre-show (I was actually hoping the E! True Hollywood Story would be on instead—it's a bizarre addiction of mine), and there she was, yammering away, shoving her microphone into people's faces, while her own face screamed "Too many trips to the plastic surgeon!"

                Anyway…my life here doesn't seem nearly as exciting as yours has been lately.  My parents and I have been maintaining radio silence since our one and only conversation this year.  I suppose I really shouldn't be surprised by it—they barely spoke to me when we were living in the same house.

                I have to get going, but write soon.  Oh, and tell Lane I hope she heals quickly!

                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

*              *              *

January 25, 2002

Dear Tristan,

                "Maintaining radio silence"?  We have got to get you out of military school!  I'm sorry to hear that your familial relations haven't improved, however.

                So you want details, huh?  Well, it wasn't a complete disaster. Close, but not quite.  On the plus side, Jess didn't try to make a big production out of our date.  I would have been really freaked out if he had showed up with a dozen roses or something.  He got to the house, said hi to my mom, and then we went to a movie.  The Lord of the Rings, to be exact.  So, to answer your question from a couple letters ago, yes, I've seen it.  I really enjoyed it, despite its three-hour-plus running time.  I would highly recommend that you see it in the theater.

                Getting back to the date, everything was progressing smoothly until Jess put his arm around my shoulders.  It wasn't quite the "yawn move," but close enough.  I then proceeded to accidentally dump my extra-large iced cappuccino in his lap—onto his surprisingly-dressy-for-Jess khaki pants.  He went to the men's room and got dried off a little, but there was still a huge stain in a rather inopportune place.

                To make matters worse, as we were leaving the theater, who should we run into but Dean and his blonde bimbo-of-the-week.  I seriously thought smoke was going to start pouring out of his ears when he saw me with Jess.  He immediately went into full jealous-ex-boyfriend mode, and came storming over to us.  I think he was just trying to pick a fight with Jess, which I found rather idiotic.  Sure, Dean has a couple inches on Jess, but I'm pretty sure Jess has more experience beating the crap out of people.  Anyway, Dean ended up with a bloody nose and a split lip, and Jess ended up with…well, bruised knuckles.

                After that disgusting display of testosterone, I hauled Jess over to the diner and sat him down for a little heart-to-heart.  I explained, as calmly and rationally as I could, that although I care about him very much, he and I can only be friends.  He actually handled it pretty well—much better than, say, Dean would have.

                And that's pretty much all there is to tell.  I have taken to crossing over to the other side of the street when I see Dean approaching, and Jess and I are still working through the awkward "redefining our friendship" phase.  Other than that, it's about as normal as life in Stars Hollow ever gets.

                So I hope you're happy.  Did I mention how irritating it is when you're right?

                I need to get going—there's a basketball game at Stars Hollow High tonight, and since Lane joined the cheerleading squad, I promised to come and be supportive.  (Even though she's just going to be sitting in the bleachers in her uniform, thanks to her ankle.)  Write soon.

                                                                                                                                Love, Rory

To be continued…


	5. Letters Through the Flux Capacitor

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: May include spoilers from any season 1 or 2 episode, up to "Lorelai's Graduation Day."

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.  

A/N:  That's right, this story wasn't dead.  It was only mostly dead.  Sorry about the long delay!  Also, just to clarify, I am from the Midwest, and I love it, so please don't think I am bashing it.  It's all about the characters.  And I don't know if Cambridge, MA is really stodgy or not, but it was such a nice adjective.  And yes, I know the chapter title makes no sense, but I think it sounds cool!

**Please Mr. Postman**

**Part 5:  Letters Through the Flux Capacitor**

**By Grace**

January 26, 2002

Dear Lane,

                Thanks for the letter.  It's always nice to get unexpected mail.  By the way, I hope your ankle is feeling better.  How much longer will you have to wear the cast?

                I appreciate your words of support for the Rory situation, but I have to admit that I'm not as optimistic as you are.  Like you said, she's clueless.  If I push too hard trying to give her a clue, I might end up pushing her away.

                Still, you've given me hope, and I haven't given up completely.  I'm actually working on a plan that I may need your help executing.

                Oh, and I haven't yet heard how Rory's date with Jess went, but I'm sure I'll get all the info soon.

                Take care, and thanks again.

                                                                                                                                Tristan

P.S. I hope the fake return address prevented your mom from becoming suspicious! T.

*              *              *

January 27, 2002

Dear Tristan,

      Hey babe!  What's shakin'?  You managed to worm your way into the heart of Stars Hollow, so Miss Patty insisted we send a care package.  There are some pictures from Christmas and New Year's that I thought you'd like, Sookie baked fourteen batches of cookies, and there are a few other surprises from everyone else.

      I hope military school isn't too wretched this semester—Rory tells me you're trying to come back to Chilton next year.  Bet you never thought you'd be running towards Hell, did ya?

      Well, kiddo, I have to go.  Can I just say how utterly annoyed I am that X-Files and Alias are on at the same time?  Thank God for VCRs!

                                                Love, Lorelai

*     *     *

January 29, 2002

Dear Rory,

                I got your letter yesterday, and you seem to have survived the date reasonably intact.

                He almost pulled a "yawn move," huh?  I honestly can't remember the last time I was that…subtle on a date.  Actually, it's getting to the point where I can hardly remember the last time I was on a date…

                But I digress.  It sounds like you handled the situation admirably, despite a veritable fountain of testosterone.  (Can you tell I just finished writing an English paper?)

                I gotta tell you, Dean is an idiot.  I know he's probably hurt that you broke up with him, but he's insane to pass up the opportunity to be your friend.  Glad to hear you and Jess are working through the awkwardness—he seems like an okay guy.

                I just started an ACT prep course this past weekend.  As if military school wasn't bad enough already, now I have four hours of class on Saturday mornings, too.  I really didn't want to take it, since all the East Coast schools want SATs, but my father insisted.  He thinks I should have a "backup plan of second tier Midwestern schools in case the Ivy League won't take me."  Nice to know he still has faith in me…

                You're still pretty focused on Harvard, right?  I'm really thinking I should go there, if only to piss off dear old dad.  The DuGreys have always been Princeton men.

                As fascinating as my family's academic history must be to you, I'm sure you have better things to do with your time!  Write soon.  I miss you.

                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

*              *              *

**January 30, 2002******

**Dear Tristan,**

**                Hey!  The return address was a stroke of genius!  Innocent enough that my mother wouldn't open it herself, and not compelling enough to read over my shoulder!  You rock.**

**                So, false alarm on the Jess thing, as I know you've heard.  I still think a preemptive strike would have been a wiser course of action on your part.  You're just lucky your opponent's strategy failed.  Haven't they been teaching you ****any**** battle tactics at that school?**

**                I'm very excited about this mysterious plan of yours.  Does it involve grand romantic gestures?  As intelligent and independent as Rory is, she still totally digs that stuff.**

**                She mentioned your little joke about ****South Padre Island****.  You know that's so not her thing, right?  I hope you don't mind, but I'm trying to convince her that we should road trip down to visit you for spring break.  I have no clue how I would convince my mother to allow this, but that's a different bridge on an entirely different river.**

**                Since you asked, the cast will be on for…much longer than I want.  Actually, another month, I think.**

**                Talk to you later!**

**                                                                                                                                Lane**

***              *              ***

February 1, 2002

Dear Lorelai,

                Thank you so much for the care package!  Please tell everyone else how much I appreciate it.  The pictures are great, and Sookie makes the best cookies I've ever had.  I keep having to hide them from my roommate!

                Not much else is new down here.  I don't lead a very exciting life anymore.  I pretty much live vicariously through the letters I get. (Hint, hint.)

                I hear you on the suckiness of TV scheduling.  I finally gave up on the X-Files this season.  It's just not the same without Mulder.  Besides, that Alias chick is hot!

                Thank you again for everything.  This is the first time in my life that I feel like I have a family.  Say hi to everyone for me.

                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

*              *              *

February 2, 2002

Dear Tristan,

                Happy Groundhog Day!  Great movie, by the way.

                So you're going to an ACT class?  Yuck.  Saturdays are for sleeping in!  I'll probably take the test in April anyway, just in case Harvard burns down and I suddenly feel compelled to apply to Michigan State or something.

                Since you were so honest in expressing your opinion of Dean, I thought I'd reciprocate.  Your father sounds like the least supportive parent I've ever heard of.  I know for a fact that you're smart enough to succeed at any college you choose.  All you need are the grades and test scores to convince the admissions boards.  As for Harvard, I think it would strike fear into the heart of stodgy old Cambridge if we were both there!  That's not to say it wouldn't be fun, of course… J

                Small-town life continues to roll along.  Sookie almost burned down the inn—again—a few days ago.  It was sheer luck that Michel went into the kitchen before she set herself on fire, too.  They managed to get it extinguished before it spread to the rest of the building.

                Luke and my mom have been flirting even more shamelessly than normal, but the bet still hasn't been officially resolved.  I have a feeling to will be soon, though.

                Jess seems to have recovered nicely from my rejection of him.  He's gone back to his normal surly, sarcastic self, wreaking havoc on Taylor's psyche.  It's really pretty entertaining.

                Paris and Nathan are still going strong.  Her mood has improved significantly because of him—she's even started smiling on a regular basis.  She'll never be a giddy schoolgirl, but she's no longer giving the Evil Queen in Snow White a run for her money.

                I'm picking Lane up to go see a movie in a few minutes, so I need to get going.  I miss you too—write soon.

                                                                                                                                Love, Rory

To be continued…


	6. Otherwise Known As T-R-O-U-B-L-E

Pairing: R/T…eventually

Rating: PG, if that

Spoilers: May include spoilers from seasons 1 & 2

Disclaimer: The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino, Hofflund-Pollone, Dorothy Park Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brothers Television.  No copyright infringement is intended.  The characters are being used solely for entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.

A/N:  That's right, it's back.  Again.  The story that will not die…kind of like Helena on _General Hospital_.  I make no promises on the timing of future updates.  Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies.

Oh, and a special shout-out to Liza (AKA inmyeyes) for creating the fantastic character of Natalie DuGrey in her amazing story _It Had to Be You._  Go read it!  Now!

**Please Mr. Postman**

**Part 6: Otherwise Known As T-R-O-U-B-L-E**

**by Grace**

February 5, 2002

Dear Lane,

Another month of the cast, huh?  Wow, that sucks.  I know how it feels, though.  I broke my arm when I was twelve, and those eight weeks felt like an eternity.  Although telling you that probably doesn't make you feel any better…

Thanks for agreeing to help me with "The Plan."  I think it would qualify as a grand romantic gesture.  I just hope I'm not _over_doing it.  It would be a lot easier to explain to you over the phone, so maybe we can pull someone else into the plot.  Do you think Lorelai might be willing to give us a hand?

I would absolutely love to have you and Rory come down here for Spring Break!  Maybe you could convince your mom that it's some kind of school field trip or college visit or something.  By the way, mine runs from March 18-22, so with a little luck that will coincide with yours.

Anyway, I should probably get going.  Write soon!

                                                                                                                                Tristan

*              *              *

**_February 6, 2002_**

**_Dear Tristan,_**

****

**_My darling daughter thinks it's weird that we're corresponding.  I pointed out to her that you never called _me_ Mary, and I never kissed you and then burst into tears, so it's actually _less_ bizarre for _me_ to be writing to you than it is for _her_ to be writing to you.  Speaking of which, when are you going to get up off your lazy—yet temptingly pinchable—butt and tell Rory that you love her?  I mean, good grief, boy, Stevie Wonder could spend five minutes in a room with you two and figure it out!  She's your cherie amour.  We get it.  No clue how _she_ hasn't figured it out yet—no one can really be _that_ oblivious, can they?_**

****

**The X-Files_ is definitely not the same without Mulder, but I keep waiting for him to show up so that he, Scully, and baby William can live happily ever after.  Now _there_ are some oblivious people.  Mulder totally wanted to jump Scully's bones in the very first episode!  Has she seen David Duchovny?  What was she waiting for?_**

****

**_Speaking of yummy men, the hotness factor of Vaughn and Will definitely gives _Alias_ the edge this season._**

****

**_Glad you enjoyed the cookies.  I'll have Sookie send more soon!_**

**_                                                                                                                                Love, Lorelai_**

*              *              *

February 8, 2002

Dear Rory,

My dad would definitely be in the running for the title of Least Supportive Father.  In fact, my entire family is downright dysfunctional.  Sure, your mom had you when she was sixteen and you hardly see your dad, but it's still a more loving family than mine.  The only one who's even close to sane is my baby sister Natalie.  She's only seven, so they really haven't had time to corrupt her yet.  I felt so bad when I had to leave her alone with our parents in that house to come down here.  I'm still not sure why they bothered to have one child, let alone two.

Moving on…  You, me, and Cambridge?  I like the sound of that.  Turning Harvard on its ear would be a blast.  That's almost a good enough reason for me to try and get the grades to be accepted there.

No real progress on your mom and Luke's relationship, huh?  I think you're right—it can't possibly last much longer.  Of course, it might be easier if you just locked them in together somewhere.  Or, you know, get them stranded during a blizzard.  That kind of thing always works, doesn't it?

Well, I need to go.  My physics class starts in ten minutes.

Wish you were here with me.  Miss you.

                                                                                                                                Love, Tristan

*              *              *

**February 9, 2002**

**Dear Tristan,**

**I talked to Lorelai about The Plan, and she's in.  Rory will be out until 8 p.m. this Wednesday, so give us a call at the Gilmore's at 6:30.**

**Talk to you soon.**

**                                                                                                                                Lane**

_To be continued…_


End file.
